


The Woods of Change

by Merfilly



Category: Earth's Children - Jean M. Auel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: In a world where Broud's clan drift closer to the Sharamudoi lands, paths cross and change everything.
Comments: 44
Kudos: 63
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The Woods of Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atreic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atreic/gifts).



> Atreic, you had very interesting prompts, and as you said, this is a bit far-fetched, but it spoke VERY LOUDLY to me. Working off the map in _Valley of Horses_ gave me this idea. The ending is a bit open, but it felt right to stop there, much like the books always left on pivotal moments.

When Broud cursed Ayla, when the Spirits had grown so angry, the clan had struggled. Broud had resisted the urge to turn north, having seen the spirit of the Woman Who Hunts turn and go that way.

The path to the sea had held other unpleasant memories, but at least her spirit could not be there!

They wandered, finding caves at times, but nothing that would serve beyond a turning of the season. They surged on, dwindling in number, then surging up as they found another displaced clan, this one guided by their mog-ur for the chieftain had been killed in the rock-slide that buried the mouth of their cave.

Negotiations between Goov and their mog-ur led to a decision to come together, united under Broud. Broud listened to the new hunters, and they struck out to the north and west, leaving the bounty of the sea and closer lands for the woods above the peninsula. Up there, they could find a place, somewhere to be rooted again, where their Spirits could find them.

They just had to be strong enough.

* * *

"He does not go."

Broud's word was firm, and neither Goov nor Vorn could move him on the matter. To reach the Clan Gathering, after all they had wandered, and how hard it had been to build new stores of food, would be a trial. None of the old ones would go, and he would not take Durc as one more mark against them. Likewise, the pregnant women would all be left, and that let Broud make the others stop.

"A hunter must stay, for the elderly and the women that are carrying this season. He will hunt for them."

Grudgingly, and dimly grasping how wrong this was, the rest of the men agreed to leave their best runner and thrower behind with those unable to travel.

* * *

Living in the woodlands, near a great river, was not without its trials, but Durc had long since accepted it as an adventure, one he was sometimes able to get Grev to believe in. There was a clan further up the river, and they had spoken of Others, a thing that made Durc restless.

He had not forgotten 'Mama'. Mama was of the Others, and sometimes he still could see her face, her bright hair, often when he was just falling asleep. He knew that his 'Mama' had been cursed with death, but the quiet stories Uba sometimes told reminded him that Ayla had been cursed before and returned from the Spirits.

Brun, the leader before Broud, had never said Ayla's name, but he would tell Durc that only one other had used the sling so well, even as Durc studied it and the bola alike.

Broud's clan would suffer. Goov was not The Mog-Ur that Creb had been. Uba was of Iza's line and still had her status, but Broud had all but forfeited the foot race and the sling contests by leaving behind his youngest hunter.

Durc would carry the responsibility, and someday, Broud would know the shame of treating him this way.

* * *

Hoof prints caught Durc's eyes as he was hunting, and while he did not have a spear today, the mystery of a horse in the woods made him choose to trail it. It might even be pregnant, outside of season, as deep as the prints were. The softer areas soon showed him there were two… and then he caught sight of the wolf print.

His free hand went to the totem pouch he wore, for the idea of a wolf so close, so recently, seemed like a sign that indulging his curiosity was a good thing. Many of the Clan did not like that he questioned, that he tried new things so quickly. Yet so often, when he did, he found a better way to make his weaker body keep up with Grev, no matter that he was the taller of them.

He would have to hope he flushed a rabbit on his trek, to take back that evening, because he was not going to stop, not now that his totem was involved.

* * *

There was a clearing ahead, and Durc was very cautious as the light improved. He could not be seen by Others; the locals had said the Others were violent and hunted Clan.

He let his eyes adjust, staying in the cover, and then he scanned ahead, hoping to at last see the horses, maybe the wolf that trailed them.

Then he could see, and he froze in place. The horses were not pregnant, but carrying Others on their backs, and strange baskets beside that —

— and the wolf ranged at the side of the paler horse with its person. Durc made his eyes actually focus on the people, made himself look at the strange cords of pale hair bundled on the head, the shaped leather that showed limbs and form so clearly.

His heart was hammering, as everything about the tableaux ahead spoke of Spirits, whispered against the idea of 'Mama' in his mind. He held his breath as the wolf looked his way, yet the wind favored him, keeping him from the notice of the people beginning to climb down from the horses. The darker one pranced on its hooves as that one — a man by the slight scruff of a beard — rubbed at the horse's neck.

Spirits was the only possible answer, and Durc stayed very still, picking out all the details when the one with the strange cords on their head slid down. He thought it was a woman, but only Mama had ever been so tall for one. Then that person turned, looking almost right at Durc, or so it felt, before kneeling right by the horse's legs.

And the wolf bounded over, also right there at the horse's hooves, and licked the person repeatedly.

Spirits.

Even if that looked vaguely like Mama, despite the pale hair all corded up like that, these were Spirits. Mama was dead, cursed by Goov at the old cave. No animal ever did that to a person.

He was scared, but Goov said it was right to be scared by spirits. He put all his effort into withdrawing, trying hard not to draw attention. It was a test of his skill, one he could focus on, rather than a woman that was loved enough by a wolf that it licked her jaw.

* * *

"Whatever it was, Ayla, it must be gone," Jondalar said, once they had laid out the ground cover and eaten.

The woman scanned all around, but Jondalar was right. Even Wolf had calmed fully.

"Maybe Mut was watching us leave the lands of the Mamutoi," she decided, weighing that in her heart, even as she touched her amulet.

"Maybe."

* * *

Durc hesitated, near where he had picked up the trail, and considered. He'd seen Mama when she was cursed.

What if he was half-dead as well? Maybe that was why he could see spirits? He knew he had not been meant to survive. Maybe Mama had given him to the spirit world when she kept him from the Clan Leader.

Maybe Creb had interceded for him because he knew!

Durc closed his eyes, and wrapped his hand around his amulet.

Uba would miss him. So would Grev.

But few others would.

"Gray Wolf, guide this man of the clan. Am I meant to go to the Spirits?" he asked in the formal signs.

A long moment, then two… and a wolf sang out, back toward the direction of the Spirits.

Durc took off at a run.

* * *

Ayla had only just started to settle on her bedroll, the light of the fire coals brighter than the dying day's light, when Wolf made a small growl. He did not, however, lunge to his feet, which indicated he was at least curious rather than threatened.

Jondalar sat up, but Ayla made the 'stop' motion, every nerve lit with anticipation.

She knelt up, looking in the direction that Wolf was, trying to make out whatever his eyes and nose told him was there.

And then she heard a voice, with the rougher edge of her childhood, say one word.

"Mama?"

"DURC?!"

She had to be dreaming, this was like one of those dreams that had helped her speak, helped her decide, the kind that Mamut said were from Mut, and she thought were from her totem.

Jondalar laid a hand on Wolf, as a boy, not even really a man by his standards, stepped into the dim clearing.

"Mama." This time the voice was not as questioning, and the boy came to the edge of the glow from the fire, closer to Ayla than the man or the wolf.

None of them quite knew how to handle it when Ayla threw herself down in front of Durc, a woman of the clan waiting to speak to a man of the same.

Durc tapped her shoulder, and studied her face when she did look up, making eye contact despite her deferential posture. This was Mama, changed but the same in ways that sparked memories of happy noises and games played away from the Clan.

For Ayla's part, she looked up, seeing Clan eyes in a face closer to Others, though he was already beginning to show the heavy facial hair that would come in soon. Likewise, he was taller than Rydag had been. He had a sling tucked in his wrap's tie, and Ayla felt pride for this son of hers that was a hunter at seven years.

"This man has seen spirits," Durc said in his language. "Maybe this man is meant to be with them."

"This woman is not a spirit, but the ways of mog-ur are not strange to me now," she answered in kind, knowing that Jondalar could not follow the nuances, that the sounds they both made were different to his ears.

"I do not understand. But I do not belong to the Clan in a proper way. I do new things. I see different ways." Durc dropped down in front of her, so as to be smaller than Mama again. "I want to be like you."

"A man of the clan does not wish to be like a woman," she said, but a hint of a smile came to her lips.

Durc's features softened at that, remembering it, the special look for him.

"Women of the clan do not hunt. You did." He eyed the animals around them, though only the wolf was watching him. "And more."

Ayla nodded. "It will be hard. The Others do not like the Clan, and are even worse to those like you, like the girl-child you were supposed to have as your mate."

Durc scowled. "Broud will not like bringing her back. He may find some way not to. He would not let me go to the Clan Gathering."

Ayla clutched at her amulet, before steadying her breathing. "You have a place. If you come with me… you might not."

"I want to be with you. I want more than the Clan."

Ayla did not look at Jondalar. If it really was so bad among Others, they could still get back to Lion Camp before winter. Her son was more important to her than a mate. Jondalar would have to choose for himself, once Ayla told him, but she was decided.

Durc wanted to be with her, and that was most important thing.


End file.
